Suds
by TorketteMonkette
Summary: [ONESHOT / possible twoshot?] Micky gets stuck washing the GTO by himself. But he makes a new feline friend, so it's not too bad.


**A/N:** This turned out much shorter than I hoped it would, but whatever. At least I'm writing.  
Wrote this one for fun since _Sweet Magnolia_ is taking a while to come together. Ahhhhh.

* * *

Heaving a sigh, Micky set down the bucket of soapy water. He placed his hands on his hips and surveyed the GTO. How he got stuck washing it, he had no idea. Davy was supposed to help him, but he had somehow wormed his way out of it.

Micky leaned against the hood of the car. It was already sweltering out and, despite having lived in California all his life, Micky still wasn't used to the heat.

Now, he loved summer as much as the next guy - for various bikini'd reasons - but some days the heat was too much. He felt like he might melt. The only thing left of him would be a puddle of a psychedelic combination of Micky colors.

Micky dipped a hand into the bucket to retrieve a sponge. He slapped it on the car and set to work.

It was only eleven in the morning and Mick figured he could go out on the town afterward. Grab a bite, maybe chat up a girl or two.

Odds of a fundraiser carwash being in town seemed pretty high. As he scrubbed, he thought about going to get the car washed there. He could tell Mike he had done all the work - and maybe even get a cute blonde reward on top of it all.

No. He thought better of it. Mike would definitely know. He had a strange kind of intuition about those types of things. Anyway, Micky already had everything started.

It was easy going at first. Thankfully, the car hadn't gotten too dirty since the last time it was washed. The only complaint he had was the sun.

He pulled his shirt over his head and stuffed it into his back pocket. He didn't want a weird tan-line on his arms, after all.

After a while of scrubbing (sometimes to the point of making his arm hurt) Micky stopped to stretch. Not too much longer and he would be done. Talking to pretty girls was just a short rinse away.

Davy walked outside at that moment. But, as soon as Micky made eye contact with him, he slipped back inside. Micky rolled his eyes.

It was his own problem if he wanted to miss out on special 45ers bonding time. Micky didn't care.

...Okay, he might have. A little bit.

As Micky rinsed the car, he heard a small squeak-like sound. He kinked the water hose and listened. Well, at least he thought he had heard something. He rounded to the back and began to rinse off the tail lights.

Then, he heard it again. Micky peeked around for the source and, sure enough, he found it. A teeny kitten.

A grin spread across his face, instantly lighting up his features.

Soap slowly dripped from the side of the car and covered the kitten. Micky abandoned the running hose and dashed over.

Micky sat down and picked the tiny thing up, cooing like he hadn't seen a baby animal in ages.

"Aww," he laughed. "You're all covered in suds!" Micky took his shirt from his pocket and tried to dry the kitten off.

The kitten meowed and Micky meowed back at her - because the kitten was, in fact, a girl.

"I could call you Suds, huh?" he smiled. He set the shirt aside and held her to his chest. "Suds..."

* * *

He wasn't sure how long he sat goo goo-ing at her, but he finally put Suds to the side, safely resting on his dampened t-shirt, so he could finish his job.

Mick made quick work of rinsing, and then disposing of the bucket and hose. When he got back to Suds, he found her curled up, snoozing in his shirt. She looked up and meowed when he touched her. He gasped at how cute it was.

He hadn't seen a possible mother cat around, so he decided, right then and there, that he would care for the kitten.

'No Pets' rule or not, Micky was going to take her in. And that was that.

* * *

 **A/N:** Will there be a sequel all about Micky keeping Suds away from Babbitt and the others? I have no idea. Maybe. Maybe not. Honestly, my mind has been too ready for new ideas recently. Don't even get me started on how many new OCs I've started to make, omfg.


End file.
